


Drawn

by PurpleArrowzandLeather



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Adopted Sibling feels, Angeal is the patron saint of patience, Brother Feels, Gen, Genesis Rhapsodos Being An Asshole, Genesis and Angeal are so done, Loveless - Freeform, Sephiroth (Compilation of FFVII) Being An Asshole, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:22:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26531332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurpleArrowzandLeather/pseuds/PurpleArrowzandLeather
Summary: "I don't get sick."
Comments: 2
Kudos: 46





	Drawn

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing.  
> Enjoy :)

Angeal lifts a brow when Sephiroth enters the armory, taking in his tired and glassy eyes. The man in question doesn’t say anything, keeping to himself. Usually, he at least makes an effort to acknowledge the older SOLDIER’s presence, and the absence of his amused greeting is concerning. 

“Feeling all right?”

Sephiroth hums. 

The black-haired SOLDIER’s brow furrows and his lips draw into a thin line. “SOLDIER First Class Sephiroth.”

The conditioning of many years of service has him straightening to stand at attention. When he realizes what happened, Sephiroth scowls at Angeal. “What was that for? It’s not as if you have the status to give me orders.”

“Just getting your attention.”

“Well, now you have it.” His temperament is curt and stonier than usual. “What do you want?”

Angeal glares right back at him. “I want you to be honest with me. You look sick, so I’m making sure you’re all right. If you’re going to be evasive about it, I’m going to badger you until I get a straight answer.”

“I’m not sick.”

Sighing,  Angeal puts his weapon down on the bench and approaches his fellow SOLDIER. He waits for the silver-haired man to grant him permission to enter his space. Sephiroth hesitates, but only for a moment.  Angeal lifts the back of his hand to the stubborn man’s forehead, wincing when he feels the heat. His skin is clammy, too. He checks the younger’s heartbeat, finding it quicker than normal. As a SOLDIER, they tend to be higher at rest than most, but not by much.

“Looks like you're sick.”

Sephiroth waves his concern away. “I am immune to every poison, toxin, and disease known to man. I don’t get sick."

“It’s a cold, Seph. Even you can’t avoid the common cold.”

“Says you.”

Angeal huffs. “You are such a child, sometimes.” 

He can help but smile at the mulish expression on his friend’s face. He’ll let Sephiroth get away with his denial. It’s easier than arguing with him. When he feels worse at some point in the near future, he’ll be sure to take ever measure of care with the younger man. When he’s been injured in the past, he always waits until he’s miserable to ask for help.

Genesis strides into the armory as Sephiroth pushes his hair out of his face.

He takes one look at Sephiroth’s glowering expression and smirks. “Well, I see someone has forgotten their sense of class. You’re a little heavy on the eyeliner.”

“I’m not wearing eyeliner.” Sephiroth grumbles. 

Genesis is referring to the dark circles around the silver-haired man’s eyes, which are more obvious now that his hair isn’t shading his cheeks. “Missed out on your beauty sleep, then? That’s a shame.”

Angeal sighs. “Genesis, lay off. He won’t admit it yet, but he’s got a cold.”

Something in the auburn-haired SOLDIER’s eyes flickers. It’s  worry , but he’d never say as much. Genesis shrugs, pulling his sword from its sheath and adopting his usual care routine. Angeal can’t help but be exasperated with the two other SOLDIERs. Sephiroth never wants to admit he’s hurting, and Genesis never wants to  _ care _ . 

Sometimes, Angeal’s surrogate brothers are the siblings from hell.

“I’m not sick.”

Lifting his hands in defeat, Angeal steps away. “I’ll see you both in the training room in an hour, then. You’d better be ready for some real work, and you...” He shoots a pointed look at Sephiroth. “should hydrate and use this hour for a catnap. I don’t care if you don’t think you’re sick. If you end up injured because of your usual stubbornness, there will be hell to pay.”

Sephiroth stares after him as he leaves, risking a glance at Genesis.

Genesis chuckles, seeming smug for some unknown reason. “Don’t look at me. It’s not my fault you have a tendency to ignore anything that’s not life-threatening.”

Hissing, Sephiroth picks up  Masamune and stalks towards the door. “Explains why I ignore you.”

“Hey!”

Sephiroth grits his teeth, stopping in his tracks. He’s being prickly and hurtful on purpose, and both of them know it. Genesis has almost always taken it in stride, but this time is, apparently, different. The bitterness in his tone is actually clear enough to be heard. “What?”

Genesis catches up to him, putting a hand on his arm that gets brushed away almost immediately. “Be an ass to me all you like, but  Angeal is trying to keep you alive.”

The silver-haired SOLDIER closes his eyes. “I don’t see why it matters.”

He does. 

“Because....” Genesis scoffs to himself. “Despite your arrogance and overall unwillingness to cooperate, we actually give a damn about your health.”

He knows. 

He just doesn’t understand  _ why. _ Why the hell would either of them want to watch out for him in a world where it’s safest to look out for yourself and only yourself? It’s no secret to him that he’d willingly sacrifice his own life for Angeal and Genesis, but why they’d do the same for him is unknowable. He hasn’t given them any reason to care.

“Just go do as  Angeal told you.” Genesis grumbles. “We’ll see you at training.”

He leaves, Sephiroth remaining in the armory for a few moments more. He hadn’t intended to anger Genesis or frustrate Angeal, but he’s done both within the span of a couple minutes. Sephiroth has been taught to rein in his emotions to the point where he seems cold because it’s the easiest way to remain detached. Loathe as he’d be to admit it, he’s gotten attached to the two other SOLDIERs anyway. They treat him less like a partner and more like a friend.

Maybe that’s why he’s struggling. Sephiroth has never been very good at making friends.

In light of his discovery, he retreats to his quarters so he can do as Angeal asked. Maybe the nap will help with his persistent headache. If Angeal’s description of his illness is correct, his fever is the cause, so rest might do him some good.

Against every sense of the schedule  Shinra has drilled into him, he falls asleep in the darkness of his room, a thick blanket resting over his shoulders. 

He wakes sometime later to a hand on his shoulder and a pounding headache. “Sephiroth?”

The silver-haired SOLDIER tries to talk, coughing when he feels a tickle in his throat. His vision is blurry when he opens his eyes, but rubbing the sleep from them seems to do the trick. The person in his room helps him sit up, pressing a cold glass of water into his hand. Sephiroth coughs, gasping for breath as his lungs take the torment. 

“Easy. It’ll pass. Just relax.”

Sephiroth manages a few swallows, nodding when he’s finished and allowing his caretaker to help him sit up. He gets dizzy, closing his eyes to stave off the pain. 

“This feels like the opportune time to tell you I told you so.”

Damn. Angeal. He’s not sure who else he was expecting.

Sephiroth merely groans in lieu of a response. He grumbles under his breath, which only seems to amuse the older SOLDIER. The pair of them are quiet while Sephiroth waits for the dizziness to fade. As his head clears, another heartbeat thumps in his ears. The faint scent of apples lingers in the air.

“Genesis.” he hums. His voice is scratchy.

“I was wondering when you’d notice.”

The youngest SOLDIER of the three sounds farther away. He must be in Sephiroth’s living room. Hearing a page turn, Sephiroth picks up the familiar leathery smell of Genesis’s  _ Loveless. _

Sephiroth huffs. “Of course, he brought the damn book.”

“You’re lucky he isn’t in here reading it to you already. I asked him to hold off while I was checking you out.” Angeal has a smile in his voice. “After that, you’ll be at his mercy.”

Small favors, Sephiroth supposes. He has no choice but to resign himself to his fate.

“Would you like more water?”

The sickly SOLDIER hums. 

Angeal opens his palm, placing three pills in it. “Take these, then drink slowly.” Once again, the black-haired SOLDIER’s hand touches his forehead. “You’re definitely too warm. They should help.”

If Sephiroth didn’t feel miserable, he might’ve fought him on it. As it is, he takes the pills.

“I’ve told our superiors you’re taking some time off. Goddess knows you wouldn’t use your vacation time otherwise.” He helps the silver-haired SOLDIER lay down again. “I’d strongly suggest you use this time to rest. We’ll be taking turns keeping an eye on you.”

Sephiroth grimaces. Anytime Angeal “strongly suggests” something, it means he’ll wrestle the younger man into compliance any way he sees fit. He doesn’t have the energy to be badgered like that.

“Sir, yes, sir.” he mumbles. 

“Good.” He calls out into the other room. “Genesis, he’s all yours.”

“Why do you hate me, Angeal?”

The dark-haired SOLDIER chuckles warmly, placing a comforting hand on Sephiroth's shoulder. “I think if I hated you, I wouldn’t be standing here right now. Just rest, Seph. We’ll take good care of you.”

Genesis sits down on the corner of the bed, shifting around until he’s comfortable. He clears his throat as though about to read some grand piece. “Infinite in mystery -”

“By the goddess, Angeal, just kill me.” 


End file.
